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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456530">Sweater Weather</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou'>IWillBeTheEndofYou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Hoodies, I am not even a little sorry, I have a collection, I sleep on them like a dragon on her horde, I think of it more like a tax, Keeping warm, My husband is cold sometimes, Sweaters, being bundled up, capes, chilly weather, cold weater, dangle over your hand, feeling chilled right down to the bone, is it stealing really, long sleeves, snatch those hoodies, snuggle in, the fit so nicely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:13:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How you get a sweater/hoodie/wrap/other Warm Article from each of the demon brothers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>481</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I'll Kiss That Smile Off Your Face</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My husband will carefully select a hoodie to give to me each fall, like a sacrifice. I will sometimes return these for him to wear when they don't smell enough like him anymore.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time dragged on. You wanted to tap your pen against your pad of paper, but knew that was rude. Instead, you tried to keep your back straight and concentrate on what Diavolo was saying. It was something not entirely to do with the exchange student project, and your mind wandered.</p><p>      Lucifer was sitting across from you, paying attention. You let your eyes concentrate on the shape of his nose, the quirk of his lips. </p><p>     You loved those lips, you thought. You loved when he glared at you, even though you knew it was a dangerous line to be crossing. But he didn't get outraged with you, you noticed. He just seemed exasperated, and maybe even fond of some of your shenanigans. Then again, you thought, you weren't emptying the fridge or spending all the money or anything.</p><p>     Your pen was moving across the paper, almost without you being aware of it. You glanced down and realized that you'd been drawing little hearts, and maybe you had scribbled the name 'Lucifer' inside a few of those. You contained your gasp and covered the paper with your hand.</p><p>     Diavolo didn't notice, continuing his conversation with Lucifer. Nothing escaped the firstborn though, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. You felt your cheeks heat up, and tried to focus on the Demon Prince. You felt one foot tap gently against the top of your foot.</p><p>      Really, you thought. Playing footsie now? You choked back a giggle and tamped back the temptation to make a face at him. You slipped your foot out of your sandal and let your own toes trace up his calf.</p><p>     If you looked closely, you could see the pink stain across his cheekbones. You casually sipped your water and peered at him over the rim of the glass. Feeling bolder, you let yourself slouch down ever so slightly so your foot was closer to his knee. He locked his knees shut suddenly, trapping your foot there.</p><p>      One of his gloved hands snakes under the table to brush across the tips of your toes. You jump in your seat and feel your face heating up. You take another drink to try and distract yourself. He rubs at your toes, a smirk evident on his face.</p><p>     You could melt when his thumb presses into the ball of your foot. You could moan. He loosens his knees, ostensibly to get a better grasp on you. But you slink down just a little bit more, and your foot <br/>makes contact with the crotch of his pants.</p><p>     He can't remove you, and he can't push his chair back. Not if he doesn't want Diavolo to know what you're playing at. You beam sweetly, your toes trying to find the zipper of his pants. You know they'll be getting tighter in just a few seconds.</p><p>     You also know this is a terribly naughty game you're playing, but you're not sure if you care. You're curious to see what Lucifer is going to do. He coughs suddenly, grasping his own glass of water and drinking deeply. This was just after your toes traced down the zipper.</p><p>    “Are you okay?” Diavolo frowned at him. “Your cheeks are quite red.” he looked at you and seemed startled. “You're flushed too! Is it that warm in here? Do you want more ice water?” he glanced then at his watch.<br/>“Is that the time? I apologize, I've kept you two much too late.”</p><p>     “It's quite fine. We were happy to be here. Weren't we?” Lucifer looked at you sharply, prompting you to sit upright and nod enthusiastically.</p><p>     “You know I love coming here, my lord. And only partly because of the treats Barbatos makes.” you joke. Diavolo had a good chuckle at that.</p><p>     “Well, be that as it may, I'll let you two go for the night. Thanks for keeping up with me. I'll see you Monday?” </p><p>     You nod and give your goodbyes, trying not to hop impatiently at the door while Lucifer says an extended goodbye to the Demon Prince. Finally, your hand is taken, a warm kiss placed to the back of it.</p><p>     “Good night, precious.” he murmured to you, enjoying the way you cleared your throat, and didn't meet him in the eye as you wished him good night. He seemed to enjoy teasing you, which, you decided, was better than him not liking you at all. </p><p>    The butler opened the door for you, and you had to restrain yourself from giving him a hug. He just always looked like he needed a hug. But it was neither your business or your place to give him one. Not in front of Lucifer and Diavolo.</p><p>    “It's a bit chilly tonight,” Diavolo observed. “But you've both been so warm, maybe the air will do you good. Are you sure you'll be all right?” he frowned.</p><p>     “We'll be just fine. Thank you, Lord Diavolo.” Lucifer smiled and walked you off as quick as would be polite. You wondered what he was worried was going to happen. But you kept your mouth shut and enjoyed the quiet walk with him.</p><p>    “I like moments like this with you.” you said suddenly, after a few moments. He graced you with a small smile and let you hold his hand. Lucifer wasn't big on displays of affection, instead saving it for moments alone.</p><p>      That made it all the more precious to you. You took moments like this and gathered them deep into your heart, to brood over in moments when you felt lost and empty. You squeezed his hand and walked a little further.</p><p>     Diavolo hadn't been kidding about the chill. You had already taken off your RAD uniform before the meeting and changed into a pair of shorts and a t shirt. Lucifer had needed to remind you about the meeting, which was hard enough. He wasn't thrilled about your choice of wardrobe, but had been forced to admit that Diavolo had said many times there was no reason to stand on ceremony for these events.</p><p>     But it had been warm then. It was downright cold now. And your clothes were thin. Of course you'd worn some sandals, too. Anything so you wouldn't have to scramble to find shoes and be late. You were regretting that now.</p><p>     You shivered, hoping Lucifer wouldn't notice.</p><p>     “What am I going to do with you?” he gave you a long look, crimson eyes smoldering.</p><p>    “What do you mean?” you asked with an innocent air. “I'm sure I haven't the foggiest notion what you're talking about.”</p><p>    “Your little game with your toes during the meeting? That's not the proper way to act, is it?”</p><p>    You hummed thoughtfully, refusing to look at him. If you acted Devil-may-care enough, maybe he'd drop it. He stopped walking with a growl and pulled you tight into him, his hands clamping down on your hips.</p><p>    “You were misbehaving.”</p><p>    “Was I?” your voice was less careless and more breathless. You wanted to reach out and touch him, rest your hands against his shoulders. But you knew the rules of these games, and you knew that you weren't to touch unless you were told to.</p><p>    “You were very naughty.” he confirmed. He leaned in close, his lips just brushing against your ears. “What are we going to do about that?”</p><p>    “I—I don't know.” you stammered, shivering from something other than the cold against your skin. Were the goosebumps caused by the air, or by his thumbs rubbing against your hips. He slipped to your ass and gripped it tight, pulling you in even tighter.<br/>“Whatever you think is fitting?”    </p><p>    “Good girl.” he breathed. You wanted to melt into his arms. “But I don't choose to have you freeze to death.” his voice had gone back to its normal tone. You were almost disappointed when he pushed you away to look you up and down.<br/>“I shouldn't have let you leave the house dressed like that.”</p><p>    “I can take care of myself.” you grumbled.</p><p>    “You can't remember a jacket?” well, he had you there. You pouted a bit anyway. He pulled off his cape and tucked it around your shoulders. </p><p>      This was a pleasing turn of events. You turned your cheek to rub the fur lining, soft and comforting. It smelled of him, of the heat of a fire of pomegranates, with something a little earthy. Sage, maybe? You never had been able to pin down that scent.</p><p>      “Come,” he wrapped an arm around you, pulled you in tightly. You nuzzled into his side. “Let's go home and get you warmed up.” he said in a tone that made you feel hot all the way to your toes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. So Promise You'll Stay Right Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Satan is on the hunt for a book. Why is it always a book with him? And why does it have teeth?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really love sweaters and shirts that cover my hands. Then you can just whack people who piss you off. (Don't do that. Or if you do, don't say I said it was okay.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I know it's in here somewhere.” Satan muttered as he walked purposefully down the stacks. You scurried behind him, holding the candle. He almost didn't seem to need it, his finger running over the spines of the books as you walked.</p><p>      Maybe he can see in the dark, like a kitty, you thought. You tittered, causing him to glance over his shoulder. When he saw you grinning, he smiled a bit himself.</p><p>    “At least you're having a good time, aren't you, my dove?”</p><p>    You don't respond, blushing at the pet name. He wasn't really asking, anyway. He was back to his search a moment later. He was leading you deeper and deeper into the stacks. The shadows deepened and lengthened. A cold wind picked up.</p><p>    Was it demonic, or was this just an old building? Either one seemed equally likely. You cupped your hand around the little flame, hoping to keep it alive just a little bit longer. </p><p>    “Why did we bring a candle? Why not a lantern? Why couldn't we use the flashlight app on the DDDs?” you piped up. Satan glanced at you before turning back to hiss search.</p><p>     “Because the book we're looking for doesn't like light. This is our best chance of getting it.”</p><p>    “Well, I'm afraid it's all up to you. It's darker than a witch's pocket in here, and I can't see beyond the candle at all.”</p><p>     Truth be told, you couldn't even see anything around the candle. You squinted in the darkness. There were footsteps ahead of you, so you followed them. There was something unnerving about walking around in the dark. You shuffled each foot forward, groping at the floor before you'd complete a step. You had heard the stories from Diavolo and Satan about what kind of things lurked around in the dark corners of the library, and you didn't fancy the idea of a monster book taking a bite out of you.</p><p>     But in your concentration, you realize that you've lost the track of the footsteps. You're alone in the deepest stacks, and your candle is burning low.</p><p>    “Satan?” you call out, straining your ears to hear. “Are you here? Somewhere?”</p><p>    But the only reply is that cold wind, rushing through you, cutting you right to the bone and snuffing out your candle. You frown and reach into your pocket for the lighter. You didn't realize how badly your hands were shaking until the lighter slipped out of your hands and bounced along the floor. You winced. Even if you found it, it was just a cheap disposable. There's no telling if it cracked or broke on this ancient floor.</p><p>    “Satan?” you call again. The surrounding silence makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You fished out your DDD to try and type out a message. But of course, the bibliophile had led you into a place with no service.<br/>“Oh please, what is this, the Dark Ages?” you mumbled. You shoved your phone back in your pocket to consider your options. You could stay where you were and hope for the best, crawl around and look for the lighter for your pitiful candle, or continue into the dark.</p><p>     You shrugged and continued into the dark. How bad could it be? Satan wasn't likely to bring you somewhere you could be eaten alive. If you lost a finger or two, well, maybe you'd have a cool story to tell one you went home. If anyone would ever be inclined to believe it, anyway. You wondered what story was being told about you back home, and how you would have to lie to fit that into your life. And how would your life ever be the same after you left?</p><p>    You rubbed your bare arms, unsure if you were chilled from the air which hadn't bothered to warm up, or the realization that you would have to go home. You'd have to leave this place, these people, and go back to all that you had been before. </p><p>    What would that be like?</p><p>     What would it be like to be without them?</p><p>     Your mind wandered back to nights at the House of Lamentation. Nights in Satan's room, where he read to you from books written in languages so ancient, no one remembered what they had forgotten. You remembered letting him rest his head in your lap as your hand carded through his hair. You remembered nights with your heart thudding in your chest as his lips caught yours, his hands held your wrists with the perfect pressure. You weren't a prisoner, and you could leave any time. He was holding onto you to remind himself that this was real; he was real, and so were you. This moment was real, and he wanted to engrave it into his memory.</p><p>     You thought about laying in front of the fire in the common room, with his body pressed behind you, legs tangled together. You stared into the fire together and whispered words that held promises that no one could make come true.</p><p>     But you wanted to wind those promises around you. You wanted to wear them like a strand of pearls, to be admired, to be touched by you in moments of doubt. You wanted to slip them into your mouth when no one was looking, roll them against your tongue.</p><p>    God, this was gonna hurt.</p><p>   “Satan!” you cried out, and knew that this time you sounded a little more alarmed. Well, even if it was because you didn't like the thought of leaving him, it was getting pretty spooky. Your heart started pounding, and you started to run, even though you knew that was a stupid idea in the dark.<br/>“Satan! Answer me!”</p><p>    You smacked into a wall at the end of a stack with a rather ungraceful sound. Your face stung, and you were sure you scraped your nose. You kept you back to the wall and decided it would be a better idea to shuffle along that way. At least nothing could sneak up on you.</p><p>    The wall was rough under your hands, gritty with centuries of something. Dust and cobwebs and the dreams of depressed literary majors, probably, you decided. It wasn't pleasant to touch, but you didn't want to keep going with your back unprotected. You were hurrying along as much as you dared, your shoes catch on cracks in the floor, threatening to send you tumbling down.</p><p>    You pause for a moment, trying to get your bearings. If you can be still for a moment, maybe you can hear him. Maybe he's shouting for you. The only sound is your own frantic pulse in your ears. You strain harder and hear a whisper of something. It's something shuffling along the floor.</p><p>    “There you are!” you rush towards the shuffling, relief flooding your body. But you stop dead, listen again. He hadn't said anything to you. That wasn't like Satan, not at all. You frowned. The shuffling noise got closer to you.<br/>“Who is that?” you shouted, hoping you sounded more intimidating that you did. You clutched the candlestick, hoping you could give it a few good whacks, whatever or whoever it was. Like that was going to be enough to do anything for you. </p><p>    There was a growl, low and wet sounding. You could feel the teeth behind that growl. You dropped into a crouch, holding the candlestick up like a bat. Maybe if you could take it out at the knees, it would fall and you'd have a chance to run for it.</p><p>    But books don”t get up and walk around like a full grown adult. Most of them, anyway. As you were peering into the velvety darkness, you realized the growl was closer to you. Frantically, you swung the candlestick before you felt teeth graze your arm. Your shirt tore away, and you screamed loud and clear into the library.</p><p>    Footsteps rapidly approached. The book lunged for you again and you tried to kick at where you thought it might be. More teeth against your flesh, burning and a wetness that could be saliva or blood, or maybe both.</p><p>    “My dove!” Satan's voice, finally. You could have wept. He was kneeling down next to you, catching the book as quick as a wink. He had the book, leaving you clutching your arm, feeling down the for the wounds. He muttered something to the book, and the outraged growling stopped.<br/>“You found what I was looking for.”</p><p>     “At the cost of my skin!” you tried to stand. You felt more than heard him stand too, his fingers grasping the elbow of your good arm.<br/>“I screamed for you. Where did you go?”</p><p>     “I am so sorry.” he did sound contrite, which soothed your ruffled feathers at least a little bit. He was pulling you quickly towards the part of the library that probably wasn't stocked with people eating books. Or at least better behaved ones.</p><p>    “I should have turned the light on my DDD on.”</p><p>    “I'm glad you didn't.” he sounded grim. “It would have pissed them all off. They would have attacked you, and I don't know that I could have fended all of the books off.”</p><p>    “Bet you could.” you said without thinking. He gave you a reassuring squeeze. Quicker than you thought possible, you were in light. You squinted your eyes shut, grimacing against the sting. A few quick blinks and you adjusted.</p><p>     Satan was there, examining your arm. The punctures were small, anyway. He dabbed at them with his handkerchief.</p><p>     “These won't get infected. Probably heal up in a day or so. No scar.”</p><p>    “I won't even have anything to point to and tell my story to!” you huffed. What a pointless journey. Your shirt was another matter. You looked down and realized it was in tatters, the little cap sleeve missing, a chunk missing out of the side. At least the book hadn't taken a hunk out of your ribs.<br/> “Oh no!” you squeaked, covering up the exposed skin. It wasn't anything scandalous, not really. But you didn't want any other demons seeing your skin on display and getting ideas. </p><p>    “Here,” quick as a wink, Satan was shucking out of his green sweater. He stood in his shirt and waited as you slipped it on, pulled it down. The sleeves covered your hands, and there was something comforting in it. <br/>“Now you look fit for public.”</p><p>    “Satan,” you pointed a finger accusingly. “I lost my favorite top to your book that wanted to take a bite out of crime. You left me to walk around a wall that felt like it had the filth of a thousand years of grimy, sad college kids stuck to it. What the hell?”</p><p>    His face fell. He hustled you out of the library.</p><p>    “Don't cause a scene, please?”</p><p>     “I'll cause a scene! Is it enough of a scene your book literally BIT me?”</p><p>    “I apologize.” he swallowed. “I do. I didn't intend for you to get hurt. I didn't hear you screaming for me. By the time I realized that you weren't right behind me, we were so far apart. I had to run.” he reached for you, cupped your hands in his. His hands were inside his sleeves too, like a secret, his thumbs rubbing against the back of your hands.<br/> “I shouldn't have brought you here.”</p><p>     Your anger melted. Satan let go of your hands, pulling you tight to him. His cheek rested on top of your head, and your arms wound around his waist. You stood like that for a few minutes. Some of the anger and fear bled out of you. It was replaced with the warm sense of calm he always brought to you. Strange, being that he was supposed to be the Avatar of Wrath.</p><p>     “I apologize, my dove.” he pressed kisses into your hair. “I should have paid better attention to you. It's my job to keep you safe.”</p><p>     One hand strokes your spine. You lean into the touch. </p><p>    “I can forgive you. This time.”</p><p>     “There won't be a next time.” he sighed. “I'll take much better care of you.” he pulled back and something lit up in his eyes.<br/>“I love the way you look in my sweater.”</p><p>     “I like it.” it was almost as good as getting a hug.</p><p>     “I think,” he said softly, his knuckles stroking down your cheek. “That I would like to see you in my sweater and nothing else.”</p><p>     “Oh!” a blush rose to your cheeks.</p><p>     “What do you think, my dove? Could you do a fashion show for me?”</p><p>     “Maybe,” you breathed. “If you can make it worth my while.”</p><p>    “I imagine I can think of something.” he laughed in a low, dark tone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You Were A Window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mammon is not having a good night.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really like that jacket of  Mammon's, if I'm telling you the truth.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“He's been gone for hours.” Lucifer frowned, crossing his arms as he peered out the window.</p><p>     “He's not picking up his calls.” Asmo wiggled his device.</p><p>     “Did he say where he was going?” you looked up from where you were kneeling on the rug, playing a game of checkers with Levi.</p><p>     “Out,” Lucifer said, in an unconscious approximation of Mammon's voice. You frowned, stood up, smoothed down your shorts as you did so. You came and joined him at the window, peering at the weather. The sky was green in cast, and a wind was picking up. You hadn't seen a storm come in since you'd been in Devildom.</p><p>    “It's gonna rain,” you said softly. </p><p>    “Maybe,” he looked thoughtful. “It doesn't happen often here. But it is torrential and vicious.” he glanced at you.</p><p>    “Mammon will be fine. Don't fret, dearest.” he said softly, so the others wouldn't hear. He put his hand to the small of your back.<br/>“Go back to your game and enjoy your evening.”</p><p>    But you couldn't concentrate, and Levi quickly beat you. He gave you a strange look.</p><p>   “What's with you, normie? I come out  to spend time with you and you don't put your whole self into it?”</p><p>   “Oh, Levi, I'm sorry.” you sighed. “I wasn't thinking.”</p><p>    The wind began to howl outside. You heard the soft pattering of rain as Lucifer stood up to go and make sure all the windows were closed. How like him. He could send a Little D to do it, but no, he wanted to do  it himself. Satan and Beel went to go and work out some hot chocolate, while Belphegor got roped into another game of checkers. Asmo flicked through a magazine and noticed you glancing at the door.</p><p>   “He'll be home shortly, darling. He won't stay out in the rain and ruin his jacket.”</p><p>   But as he said it, the wind blew up a harsh gush, whipping the rain against the glass. You scowled at him. He just went back to his magazine. You slipped out of the room and went to put on your shoes and jacket. </p><p>    Mammon walked past the bar. He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling the wind whipping up. His pockets were empty, of course. And Goldie had reached her limit. There was nothing more here tonight. He dropped down at the curb, pulling out the bottle of booze he'd snuck out of the last place. He popped the cap and sipped, staring out into the streets.</p><p>    The rain came soft at first. It flowed down Mammon's hair, sticking it to his forehead. He didn't  mind at first, found the rain cooling his temper. But then the wind picked up. He stood up, letting it all wash down his face. He scrubbed at it with the palm of his hand. </p><p>    When the drops felt like they were slicing through his clothes, he began to walk. He took off his ever present sunglasses, shook them off and hooked them into the collar of his tshirt. Mammon swigged on his drink as he walked..</p><p>   No point goin' home, he thought. Don't wanna hear them talk about how I blew all my cash. Stupidmammon. Don't want to see Lucifer waving a bill at me. No, not today. Can't handle it today. </p><p>   The storm raged around him. His jeans were soaked, His shoes squished. His skin was chilled. Impatiently, he plucked at his tshirt, pulling it away from his skin. The howling wind whistled in his ears, but was still better than the put downs of his brothers.</p><p>   He stood still, having another drink. He was starting to feel a little dizzy, too much, too fast. Where was he even going, anyway? Was there anywhere to be other than the House of Lamentation? He swallowed harshly.</p><p>      “Mammon!” the wind blew into his ears. “Mammon!”</p><p>     “Stop it,” he muttered. “I ain't gotta answer to you.”</p><p>     “Wait for me!”</p><p>      “I'm not waitin' for nobody. Not like anyone would follow me anyway!” he picked up his pace, almost running through the rain. Over the noise of the storm, he heard footsteps behind him, hurrying to keep up.</p><p>     “Please, wait for me!”</p><p>    “I said go away!” he turned around and screamed. He froze when he saw you there, streaming hair and all.<br/>“Human? What are you doing out in this weather?”</p><p>     “What are you doing?” you demanded. You spotted the bottle dangling from his hand. “What is that? Where have you been? Why didn't you answer calls?”</p><p>     “Whoa whoa,  I ain't gotta answer to you.” a bolt of lightning and crack of thunder made you jump. He looked at you and sighed.<br/>“What are you doing out here all alone? Ya know you ain't supposed to be out here by yourself.” he grabbed your elbow and shook it. “Gotta get'cha outta the rain.” he muttered to himself.</p><p>      He tugged you under a small grove of trees. You brushed your hair out of your face and looked up at him. He just glared at you, taking a drink.</p><p>     “Why are you out alone?”</p><p>     “Why are you walking around aimlessly in a storm?”</p><p>      “'Cause I was thinkin'!” he waited for her to make a comment about how that was a dangerous past time for him, or to be careful so he didn't hurt himself. She only stared at him expectantly.<br/>“Don't worry 'bout it. Ain't your problem. What are you doin' out here?”</p><p>      “Looking for you.” you answer simply. “You didn't respond and I was worried.” </p><p>     Mammon fished out his DDD and frowned. Several missed calls, a few messages. All from his brothers asking where he was, was he okay, come in out of the rain. A few from her asking with increasing fear where he was, and would he stop messing around and come in? Promises to make hot cocoa if he would, promises to let him sit next to her to watch a movie, to hang out in her room. Anything, if he'd just come home now.</p><p>      “How long ya been out?”</p><p>      “I don't know.” she shrugged, wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “I got worried, and no one else was coming out to look for you. I figured I'd find you myself. After all, you are my first.” she smiled, even as her teeth began to chatter.</p><p>      It was then that Mammon looked at her, really looked at her. She was wearing a thin pair of shorts and a little t shirt. She didn't have on shoes or a jacket. He groaned and scrubbed at his face again. His buzz was dying much quicker than he wanted it to.</p><p>     “Did you come out in the rain dressed like that?”</p><p>     “I couldn't find my coat or shoes.” she admitted sheepishly. “And I knew if I asked if anyone had seen them, they'd ask where I was going. And they'd either refuse to come with me or refuse to let me go. It's like you said, I'm really not supposed to be out without an escort.”</p><p>     “No one knows that ya left!” his jaw dropped. “Dammit. They're gonna kill me.”</p><p>     “You? What's it got to do with you?”</p><p>     “Because ya came out to find me. They're gonna blame it all on me, like they always do. Stupidmammon doing stupid things.” he went to type out a quick message. At least no one seemed to realize that you weren't at the house, so that was good.</p><p>     “No they won't.” you put your hand on his. “I came out to find you because I was worried about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you.”</p><p>      Mammon didn't type, but he kept staring down at his screen. Her other hand wrapped around his wrist. Her hands, so small and fragile. She was shivering from the cold.</p><p>      “Gotta get ya warm.” he put the phone back in his pocket and held one hand in both of his, rubbing briskly. The other hand got the same treatment. He then took off his precious leather jacket, and wrapped it around your shoulders.<br/>“Gotta get ya home.”</p><p>       “Are you okay?” you asked.</p><p>       “Be better once I get ya home. Can't have anyone else think I don't take care of my human.”</p><p>       “No one thinks that.” you pulled back as he tried to start dragging you home. “Everyone knows you take care of me. Especially me. What's the matter, Mammon?”</p><p>       The words died in his throat. Instead, he found himself walking towards her. In the shelter of the trees, he reached out and grabbed her waist. He buried his face in her neck for a moment. One hand cupped the back of his head, the other stroked his back.</p><p>       She stood still and silent, letting him hold onto her. The wind raged, and the rain dripped through the leaves to soak them. She rubbed his wet hair, and he clutched her tighter. He wanted to press her into his chest and bury her deep inside of him. He wanted to have her in all his dark and secret places.</p><p>      “I'm so sorry.” he whispered. Chills ran down her spine, and this time it wasn't from the cold. “You were the last person I wanted to worry.”</p><p>       She still didn't respond, just nuzzled her face into the side of his head. In a moment, he releases her.</p><p>     “C'mon, it's wet and cold, and you ain't wearin' shoes.” he began to pull her towards home. “Let's run, so we don't have to stay out as long.” he paused to adjust his jacket around her shoulders and frown one more time at her bare feet. <br/>“You couulda got hurt. If ya ain't got the sense to take care of yourself, I'll do it for ya.”</p><p>     And they raced through the rain.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. For A Night Some Would Kill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelzebub asks if you can hang out while he has a practice.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm going to say this now; head injuries are serious. If you think you have a concussion, seek care. That is all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you mind terribly if we don't go straight home?” Beel asked hopefully. You blinked and smiled back. He asked for so little, you though. Especially when it wasn't something to eat. You nodded happily.</p><p>    “We can stay here. Enjoy yourself.”</p><p>    Beel gave you an award winning smile and swept you up in a spinning hug briefly. The rest of the team had decided on an impromptu practice. You didn't have the heart to tell him no. He did love playing so, and it wasn't like you couldn't do your reading outside as well as in your room. </p><p>    You squeaked in the hug and giggle, feeling almost disappointed when he set you down. You gamely trailed after him, sitting at the edge of the field. The bleachers weren't out, so you spread out your jacket and busied yourself getting out book and paper and pen while he hurried into the locker room to put on appropriate clothes.</p><p>    The ground was still muddy, you noted idly, happy that you had the coat to sit on. The day was overcast, and maybe slightly chilled, but you didn't mind. You were pleased enough to be avoiding one of the mud puddles. </p><p>   They shouted and raced up and down the field. You scribbled the rough draft of an essay, pausing to suck at the end of your pen thoughtfully now and again. You caught Beelzebub's eye now and then, gave him a wave.</p><p>    He seemed to be running harder and faster. He was playing better. You wondered for a second if he was just trying to impress you.</p><p>    More likely he just wants to go out to pizza when they win, you shook your head. Don't be arrogant. Just get the essay done. </p><p>   You had just set the book aside. You reached upwards to stretch and began to wonder when you'd be leaving. Dinner was soonish, and you never knew Beel to be late for a meal. You had hoped he'd get done fast enough that you could drop by Madam Scream's for a treat, but that option was quickly looking like a no go. Oh well, maybe he'd take you next time it was his turn to walk you home. Before you could think too much about the cupcakes with their soft pink frosting, or the brownies that were the perfect texture, the ball splashed into a puddle not too far from you. You grimaced and jumped back, frowning down at the stains on your shirt.</p><p>     “Sorry!” one of the demons called sheepishly. You sighed. Served you right for sitting too close.</p><p>    “It's fine!” you shouted back, mainly for Beelzebub's benefit, as he was glaring at the other demon. You kicked the ball back towards them and sat down, pulling out a novel Satan had lent you. At least you could get in a peaceful chapter or two before heading home, and then you could talk about it with the blond demon. You were sure he'd want to know your opinion.</p><p>    And then something clipped you in the side of the head, causing you to flop down.</p><p>    “I told you to be careful!” you could smell the fear in the air as you opened your eyes. You looked up and realized Beel had a handful of someone's shirt, and that someone's toes were barely skimming the ground.<br/>“You hurt her!”</p><p>    “I'm fine!” you coughed out from the ground. “Just a little bit dazed.”</p><p>    “Put him down, Beel, your human said she's fine.” another demon was slowly loosening Beel's fingers while the red head looked you up and down. He dropped his teammate who made a loud 'oof!' and then scurried out of his reach.</p><p>     “Does your head hurt?”</p><p>     “Not as much as my ego.” you mumbled, trying to sit up. He brushed aside his teammates who had crowded around you in a circle. “It just surprised me. That's all.”</p><p>    Beelzebub's fingers, heavy and rough, parted your hair. He frowned and rubbed gently, feeling the sore spot. At least it wasn't a huge goose egg. Still, you might be concussed, he thought. He helped you up. You looked at  the filthy state of your clothes, coated in mud, and winced.</p><p>    “I can't go home like this.”</p><p>    “Come on,” Beel half walked, half carried you into the locker room. “Here,” he turned on one of the showers.</p><p>    “This is the boy's locker room!”</p><p>    “There's no one here but me. I won't look.” and sure enough, he turned and faced the door, arms crossed.</p><p>       You stripped out of your clammy shirt, trying to shake off some of the mud. No such luck. You slung it over the tiled half wall, along with your RAD skirt. Your stocks might be a lost cause, and you quickly rinsed them out to hang as well.</p><p>      Your bra and panties, quickly joined, tucked hastily under the shirt. At least they didn't look muddy. You stood under the warm spray with a sigh. The mud rinsed from your hair in dark swirls. The steam rose up around you. Your head hurt less, at least. You gingerly felt the sore spot. Just a small bump. And you weren't nauseated, didn't have ringing in your ears, didn't feel slurred or dazed. Small blessings, at least.</p><p>      You tried to wash as quickly as you could. You turned off the water and scooted towards the wall, arms crossed over your chest.</p><p>     “Beelzebub?” you called softly.</p><p>     “All done?”</p><p>    “Um, I guess. But...” you trailed off.</p><p>    “What's wrong?”</p><p>     “What am I going to wear home?”</p><p>     “Oh! Hang on.” he went to his locker and turned around, eyes screwed tightly shut. He walked towards you, hands held out with the articles of clothing in his fists. You carefully took them, and he spun back around.</p><p>    It would be funny if your face wasn't bright red, too. You pulled in the sweat pants, tying them as tightly as you could. He didn't have a shirt, but he did have a large zip up hoodie. You hooked your bra back on and put on the hoodie, zipping it to the top. It drooped off your shoulders, covered your hands, you pushed them up to your wrists.</p><p>     “You can turn now.” you said, shyly. He turned around and looked you over. A new look came over his face. Something like possessive. Strange, you thought, normally only Lucifer, Leviathan, and Mammon got this way. </p><p>    “I like it.” he said, approvingly. </p><p>    “I look like a bag lady.” you shifted. </p><p>    “You look comfortable. You look like—mine.” he stopped short. You blinked. He stared at you for a second while you finger combed your hair.</p><p>    “Yours?” you repeated. He shook his head.</p><p>     “Let's go. It's almost dinner time. I'm starving.”</p><p>    “I bet,” you laughed softly and shook your head. That comment was going to stick with you, regardless.</p><p>     When you walked out of the locker room, evening had fallen fully. Your bag and jacket were placed down neatly. Wordlessly, Beel scooped up the whole thing. Carrying my books now, you bit your lower lip. Quite the gentleman.</p><p>     He held out his free hand to you. You placed yours in it. It was to keep up with him, you told yourself. His stride was so long. It was two steps to every one of yours. And if he was in a hurry to get home for dinner, it could be even worse.</p><p>     His hoodie was nice against the evening chill. You pulled the head up, the better to hide your messy hair. He glanced down at you and smiled again, more to himself than anything else. But his fingers did give your hand a squeeze. His hand covered yours. You felt so small around him, so fragile.</p><p>    It wasn't unsafe though, you thought. It was more like feeling like a Fabrege egg. Much admired, precious, protected. Not like a Christmas ornament, something to be hung and then carelessly tossed into a box.</p><p>    “Do you want to go right and change?” Beel asked. “I can wait dinner on you.”</p><p>    Now, if that wasn't a declaration of love from the gentle giant, nothing else was. You paused for a moment. You could go upstairs. Brush your hair properly. Put on your own clothes. But... His hoodie was warm and soft, worn to the perfect part of comfort. When you took off your shoes, the pant legs would cover your feet.</p><p>    “No,” you shook your head. “I'm comfortable. It can wait until after supper.”</p><p>    Beel paused. He seemed torn. There was a protest somewhere on his lips, but you weren't going to hear it. You kicked out of your shoes, flexing your toes and turned towards the dining room, tugging at him.</p><p>    “Come oooon,” you said playfully. “I'm hungry! Let's go and get supper.” </p><p>    With a low laugh, he followed you to the table.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. You Cling To My Body Like You Wanted It For Hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Spoilers for That Incident with Belphegor!!!</p><p>You and Belphie contemplate your past and the potential for your future.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm interesting in considering whether or not you (the MC) could be okay with Belphegor after all that happened.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door to your room creaked open. You cracked one eye open and peered through your lashes at the figure that glided across your floor. You willed yourself to lay perfect still, calm your breathing. It didn't matter. He'd know if you were asleep. He knew every night.</p><p>    He knelt down next to your bed, folding his arms to rest his chin on. And like every night, he stared at you. His eyes were soft, and his own breathing was deep and even. At first, you wondered if he was sleep walking. You had sat up, slowly, carefully one of those early nights. You reached out for him, to gingerly place your hand on his head.</p><p>     He'd jerked upwards and shook his head.</p><p>    “I'm sorry.” he said in a hushed voice. “Go to sleep.”</p><p>    Before you could stop him, he left the room, leaving only the most off putting sensation that something was missing. You spent the rest off the night rolling over and over in your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Trying to recapture what was missing.</p><p>       He didn't come back for a week. Slowly, like an evening rain in the spring, he began slipping back in your room. You'd lay silently, aware of the way he was breathing. You thought you could even hear the beating of his heart. Did demons have hearts? Did they beat, the same way yours did?</p><p>     He would slip closer to you, knees still on the floor next to you. His breath gently blowing on your skin, a faint tickling that you wanted to roll into. Once in awhile, he would reach out, the tips of his fingers just brushing down your cheek, or picking up the ends of your hair to twine lazily  between his fingers, or letting those fingertips run down your back. Carefully, like you were made of glass, or perhaps crystal.</p><p>     You willed yourself still those nights. You wouldn't give in to your desire to force both eyes open and watch his face as he did these things. You wouldn't ask him why. You wouldn't say anything. You laid still and let him have these moments.</p><p>     Tonight was no different. He knelt down and watched you for a moment, watched the measured breathing, the rise and fall of your chest. You were laying on your back, face towards the door, one arm stretched out.</p><p>     Belphegor turned his attention to your hand, laying limply among the blankets. He let his head loll on the bed next to it for a few minutes. His hand reached out for yours, reverently, as though he were reaching out to receive a blessing. The pads of his fingers brushed against your palm. Your hand opened, blossomed to let him lace your fingers together. </p><p>     In the shadows of your room, you saw the slow smile on his face. It was satisfied, smile, the one someone would wear after having found something after hours of searching. He laid his head down on his arm, watching your fingers twisted together. </p><p>     You swallowed thickly, hoping he didn't hear. His eyes seemed to drift shut. With a sleepy noise, you rolled over onto your side, curling closer to him. He froze, seemed to stop breathing. </p><p>     Why are we playing like this, you thought. He knows I'm not really asleep! Is this just easier for him?</p><p>    With a sense of unease, he watched your breathing steady out. He inhaled deeply through his nose, leaning on your bed to let his free hand press delicately to your side. You remained still and docile, as though still asleep. That smile came back to his face. </p><p>    His thumb rubbed carefully against your side, just below your ribs. You wanted to scoot closer to him, to wind your arms around his neck. That would startle him quicker than a deer, though. You laid and waited. He'd never been this bold before.</p><p>   With another inhale, he raised up to lay precariously on the edge of your bed. There was still a wide space between the two of you. You took a tentative squeeze of his hand. He paused and then squeezed back, maneuvering just a little bit closer to you.</p><p>   The quiet of the night wound around the two of you, a thick quilt. You almost let yourself slip back into sleep. But it was now or not at all. Reluctantly, you began to speak.</p><p>    “Why now?”</p><p>     “Hush,” he murmured.</p><p>     “I can't,” you gave him a sad sort of smile. He hesitated before getting more comfortable on the bed and coming in close to you.<br/>“Tell me why.”</p><p>     “Because I didn't think you could stand to see me in the day light. Because sometimes, I know my brothers still don't trust me to be near you.” he took in a deep breath.<br/>“And even though, at the time, I believed in everything I was doing... I know now it was wrong.”</p><p>     You shuddered at the memory. At that moment when you died. He looked for a moment like you'd struck him across the face, and you could taste your regret. It wasn't like you could forget that it had ever happened, though. A heartbeat, and Belphegor had his body wrapped around you. Your face was pressed into his chest.</p><p>     “Sometimes I don't trust me.” he said to the velvety shadows that were swallowing the two of your whole. “And you shouldn't either.”</p><p>     “I think I'm willing to take my chances.”</p><p>     “You know what happened to you last time.”</p><p>     “Yes, no one knows better than me what happened.” he had dropped your hand, and you brought it up to rest next to your cheek. You felt the steady thrumming of his heart, felt your muscles begin to relax into the bed.<br/>“Maybe sometimes I am scared.” you admitted.</p><p>     “Then why do you let me do it? I  know you're awake.”</p><p>     “Because you needed it.” you were afraid to raise your voice above a whisper. “And maybe I do, too?”</p><p>      He said nothing. His hand left your side to cup your cheek. You closed your eyes then. Belphegor had an air of pain wrapping around him. You wished you could find the end of that string, untangle that web, let him unwrap.</p><p>     Instead, you clutched a handful of his hoodie in your fist. </p><p>     “So why do you come?”</p><p>      “I thought you said you knew I needed it.”</p><p>      “I do,” you shifted a bit to nestle closer into his side. “But I don't know why. I don't always have to understand why something needs to happen to accept it. That's kind of what it is to be human. Powerless. Sometimes it's better to accept what happens than waste time questioning it.” he hummed thoughtfully.</p><p>      “I know it doesn't seem like I feel like my brothers. You've enchanted all of them. I can see why.” you hid your hot cheeks against his chest.<br/>“But I feel the same. You've enchanted me, too. And at first, I just wanted to know if there was something about you I couldn't figure out. Maybe you had some magic that I just couldn't see right away. And then, it was just because I knew you knew I was here, and you didn't fight me. And I just wanted a few minutes. Maybe if I could be still and calm with you, you wouldn't be afraid of me.”</p><p>      “This kind of fear doesn't ever go away.” you licked your lips thoughtfully. “It's like a scar, Belphegor. I'll always be a little afraid.”</p><p>      “I'm hoping I can make that fear something else.”</p><p>      “What else?”</p><p>       “Joy. Excitement. Appreciation.” the words fell rapidly from his lips, raindrops on a tin roof. “I just wanted the chance. I know I might not be able to change anything. I just wanted the chance.”</p><p>     You wished you had words to respond. Instead, your hand left his chest. Your fingers rested against his lips for a moment. He kissed them, caught your wrist and brought it back to his chest.</p><p>     “When you look at me, there's a little bit of darkness in your eyes. When you look at my brothers, your eyes shine. I want them to shine for me.”</p><p>     “I am not trying to punish you, Belphegor.”</p><p>     “I know. I am not blaming you. It's a consequence of the choice that I made.”</p><p>     “A choice you made out of fear and anger.” you added. He said nothing, focusing instead of rubbing your back. You melted against him a little.</p><p>      You didn't add to the conversation. It was like a war in your heart. Running away, screaming, bashing his head in with the decorative candelabra on your dresser. These all seemed like reasonable, viable options. You had no real reason to trust him.</p><p>     Nothing other than something in you whispered forgiveness. You had been warned at your entrance into Devildom. Trust no one, not even the brothers. You'd been warned by Lucifer to stay out of the attic. It was true, you didn't make the choices for Belphegor. You hadn't known he would do what he did. But you had set some the actions in motion.</p><p>      You had paid with your life.</p><p>     “You're not always awake.” he said softly. You startled, you'd thought it was asleep. “When you're asleep, I can see the light of your soul. So bright, so pure. It almost blinds me. I wanted to catch it in my hands and bury it inside me. I wanted to keep it in me forever.”</p><p>      “I see,” you didn't, not really.</p><p>      “I wish I could take it all back.”</p><p>      “You can't. That's the problem.” he kissed the side of your head, left his face buried there.</p><p>      “But I pay for it every day when you look at me like that.”</p><p>       It made your heartache. But what could you do? </p><p>      “Maybe someday, Belphegor. I can't see the future.”</p><p>      “No, I know.”</p><p>       You felt him relax into your bed. You stayed quiet and still, wondering if you should rouse him and send him back to bed. What if Beel woke up and missed him? What if Mammon tried to slip in, as he did sometimes?</p><p>       “But maybe someday, I can be the reason there's a light in your eyes.”</p><p>       “I'd like that.”</p><p>        You felt yourself drifting to sleep. You weren't afraid of him, not right now. Not with the weight of his arm wrapped around you. Not with the steady thrum of his heart against your hand. You sank down into sleep, hearing him breathe.</p><p>       When you woke, he was gone. You sat up, unsure if he had been there at all. Maybe you had been dreaming. But when you looked over, there was his hoodie, laying across your bed. Just where he had been.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. And Your Innocent Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Levi contemplates his relationship with you, and the ways that you have had to bend for him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You were sitting on the floor in Leviathan's room. Your legs were twisted pretzel style, a bowl of popcorn in your lap. You were strapped happily into a headset, your fingers twitching along a game controller.</p><p>      Levi cocked his head to the side to contemplate you for a moment, listening to your shout to your teammates. He wasn't interested in the game, not really. He'd grown bored of it ages ago. But you seemed to like it so much, so he liked to let you play. Liked to watch you enjoy yourself. You'd only started it so that you could be with him.</p><p>     He  was still shocked that you liked him. He was astounded that you could ever love a gross otaku like him. He felt butterflies explode through his stomach when you looked at him and smiled. He still felt an ache when you were separated. He felt calmer with you, he felt whole.</p><p>    That wasn't to say that your relationship wasn't without problems.</p><p>    “Don't!” he hissed when you had absently reached for his hand while walking in the halls at RAD. You had jumped back though burned.</p><p>    “What? What's wrong?” </p><p>    “I just... I don't want people to stare at us.” he muttered. You froze for a moment and nodded. You spent the rest of the day quiet and thoughtful, not without a trace of sadness.</p><p>    “Did I upset you earlier? At school?” he'd asked that evening when you came to his room. You curled in a bean bag and shrugged.</p><p>    “You're entitled to space. Your body belongs to you, and if you don't want to be touched, I need to be okay with that.”</p><p>     “Are you? Okay with it?” he looked closely at you. You turned your head to watch Henry in the aquarium. </p><p>    “I have to be. Those are the terms of the relationship, aren't they? You told me when we started this that we had to go at your pace. And so I will.”</p><p>    He had tasted your sadness, though. He knew you were more tactile. He had seen you brushing your hand against someone's arm while talking to them. He had seen you sitting close to others, your legs pressed together. He knew that you hungered for touch. Denying you was painful.</p><p>    And it was harder still to realize that you were getting that fulfillment somewhere else. He'd seen you, time and time again, walking with Asmo or Satan. Leaning in close to one of them at lunch, heads pressed together. If it was Satan, it was sure to be over a book. He would read a passage to you in another language, translate it for you. He welcomed your questions.</p><p>     If it was Asmo, there was giggling. There was Asmo kneeling close to you on the benches outside, turning your face upwards. Your lips would be puckered for a kiss as he carefully painted on lipstick. Envy flared in his gut, flooded his tongue. He wanted to rush forward and rip you away from them. You were supposed to belong to him. He was supposed to be your favorite.</p><p>    But how could he keep that position if he wasn't willing to give you what you needed? Rationally, he understood. You need touch. You needed closeness. And if he couldn't give it to you, you could find it innocently enough elsewhere.</p><p>    Even if it made him want to scream and tear you apart. If he couldn't have you, then no one could. </p><p>    Which was, of course, a Dark Thought. Bad Thought. Not something he'd ever do. Not really. He knew he couldn't stand to hurt you. Even if it was hurting you a little bit to deny you the touch. You had never tried again, not after he told you he didn't like it. You respected his space out in school and public so well. It almost made him feel cold.</p><p>     It took him weeks to muster up the courage. He was walking next to you, in silence. He didn't even always make it to classes. He would hole up in his room and log on virtually to school. Besides, he had reasoned, you went to school, so you'd tell him all about the day. And that was just as good! It only had a little bit to do with the fact that he really liked the sound of your voice.</p><p>    He took in a deep breath and let his hand brush against yours. He saw your eyes go wide for a moment, watched your school your face into a neutral expression. And just as you got to your classroom, he grabbed your hand to give it a quick squeeze.</p><p>    “Have a good rest of the day. See you at home.” and he was gone in a flash. You were left with your hand warm and tingling, sparks running down your spine. You wanted to squeal, and settled for biting your lip and almost skipping into the classroom.</p><p>    He started incorporating little touches in here and there. A hand on your shoulder. A swipe to put your hair before your ears. When you were in his room, it was a different story. You often gamed sitting on the floor between his feet, your head resting against his knee, still holding a controller or watching one of his anime.</p><p>   He'd reach down often then, let his fingers play in your hair. There was something in the way that you'd lean your head back to look up at him and smile. Your eyes would drift shut when he let his nails scrape against the skin of your scalp. You'd melt into him in those moments. It satisfied something in him to do that, it gave him something.</p><p>    No one else makes you feel this way, he'd think. Just me. I'm the only one. I'm the only one who can make you smile like that. I'm the only one you sit against like this. It made his envy burn in the most delicious way. </p><p>    He had asked you once to indulge him in something.</p><p>   “What's up?” you looked up from your school work. You were meant to be studying together. You were sprawled on your stomach on the floor, legs waving lazily in the air. Your books made a neat semi circle around you. Your pen stopped on the paper. </p><p>    “Dress like Ruri-chan.” he said in a monotone. You cocked your head to the side.</p><p>    “For Halloween?”</p><p>    “For fun.” he sat back in his chair, spun it to face you more directly. You blinked a few times. Which, he told himself, was not a no. You blew air out upwards, disturbing the wisps of your hair on your forehead.</p><p>    “I don't know.” you rose slowly up onto your knees. “Cosplaying for you? That's kind of a big ask, isn't it?”</p><p>    “Y-you don't have to.” he stammered. “I-I just thought...”</p><p>   “I can see you're into the idea. And I'm not dismissing it. I could consider it. For you. To make you happy.” you nodded slowly. “Order it. I'll try it.”</p><p>   You didn't need to tell him twice. He'd had the page bookmarked on Akuzon for two weeks. It was ordered in seconds. You laughed at his enthusiasm. You approached the chair slowly, carefully, not wanting to spook him.</p><p>    You bent down, your arms winding around his neck, your cheeks pressed together as he pressed the buy now button. You even laughed a little ruefully. He reached up and held one of your wrists, suddenly wanting you to stay like that for a little while.</p><p>     When the costume came, you gamely tried it on. You went into his bathroom, came back blushing a rather fetching pink that matched the costume. He was taken in by the way the lacy scalloped neckline pressed against your skin. He was charmed by the way the hemline brushed against the back of your thighs.</p><p>     You spun in a circle, the skirt flaring out to give him a peek at the white thigh highs, with their little pink bows. And you padded slowly over his chair, stood in front of him. He reached out tentatively, put his hands on your hips.</p><p>     You visibly relaxed. He spent quite awhile putting his hands on your. You knelt in front of him so he could touch your face and hair, your shoulders, your arms. Long strokes, short touches that burned with longing. He played with each of your fingers, admiring the pink nail polish that Asmo had painted on you earlier in the day.</p><p>     You in front of him, letting him press his face into your ribs, touch your hips. His palms skimmed down your thighs, caressed the stockings. Finally, reluctantly, you had pulled away from him, catching his hands in yours.</p><p>     “I have to get ready for dinner.”</p><p>    “Yes,” he said in a breathy voice.</p><p>     “Unless you want me to go down like this?”</p><p>    “No!” it was so emphatic, you jumped a bit. “I don't want anyone else to see you this way. I want this to just be for me.”</p><p>    “Okay,” you whispered back. And had quickly gone to change in the bathroom.</p><p>      And now you were sitting on his floor, comfortable and content. He chewed on his lip for a moment. You were willing to do things that were new to you for him. You were willing to try things that were uncomfortable. </p><p>     He sucked in a deep breath and went to his pile of clothes in another chair. You barely glanced at him, trying desperately to win a battle. He stood behind you, hands behind his back, waiting for it to end.</p><p>    “I am playing like garbage today.” you sighed, taking off the headset. You set the popcorn aside, stood and stretched, arms high over your head.<br/>“What'cha doin'?”</p><p>     “Here,” he said gruffly, thrusting his white jacket towards you. You paused and slowly reached out for it.<br/>“The girl always wears the guys jacket to hoodie.”</p><p>     “You want me to wear this?” you repeated.</p><p>     “I do. And then... everyone will know who you belong to.”</p><p>     Your face lit up so bright, it made him hurt somewhere deep inside to see it. You drape it over your shoulders and did a little twirl, like you had in the costume.</p><p>     “Are you sure you're ready for that?” you asked. Ready for the world to know, ready for the stares, ready for the things that might be uncomfortable.</p><p>      “I am.” he nodded just once. You stood on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck. He waited for a heartbeat before putting his hands on your hips. After another moment, he hugged you tightly. <br/>“Of course, it might make it easier if you'd put on the Ruri-chan costume again.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Another Mistake I Just Wanna Forget</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You catch Asmo in an uncomfortable truth.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asmo tiptoed into his room. The rest of the house was restful, for once. He knew he should be skipping, he should be gleeful. But he just felt wrung out and strained. He dragged his sweater behind him, heedless of the cashmere dragging along the dirty floor.</p><p>    He opened his door and froze. The dim light of the hallway cast long shadows on his bed. You were laying there, silky pillows surrounding you. A book rested open on your chest. You hadn't pulled up the blankets.</p><p>    Well, not that he wasn't thrilled to find you in his bed, even if you were in flannel pajamas, with your hair in a simple braid. You were in such a relaxed position. Asmo threw his sweater to the side and crawled into bed, ignoring his skincare routine in favor or laying next to you. He gently plucked the book from your chest and laid it on his nightstand.</p><p>    You stirred slightly, making a sleepy sound, small hands reaching for him. He let your burrow into his chest, wrapped his arms back around you. He held you tightly for a moment, and the tension he was holding in his shoulders melted away.</p><p>   “Asmo,” you breathed. His heart fluttered. Your fingers, with the pretty purple nail polish he'd picked earlier this week just slightly chipping, wrapped around his shirt. “You're home.”</p><p>   “Indeed, darling.” he nuzzled your hair, relishing the scent of your shampoo, blood orange and sweet. </p><p>    “Where were you?” you pulled away from him and rubbed at your eyes, waking up a little bit. He looked down at you and blinked a few times.</p><p>     “At The Fall?”</p><p>    “But,” you frowned. “You said that we could study for the test together. Right after supper.”</p><p>     Asmo paused, contemplating. He then remembered. You had asked at breakfast. Please help me, Asmo, I'm having a hard time. And he had agreed readily. But then the day wore on, and he felt so restless. He needed to go and dance. He needed to touch and be touched. He knew that if he didn't spend that urge, if he didn't staisfy that, then he'd want to touch you.</p><p>    And he didn't want to do that. Not until you'd come to him.</p><p>   “Oh, darling,” he sighed. “It completely slipped my mind. I feel just sick about that. I didn't mean to disappoint you.” he cuddled you to him.</p><p>    That sweet pliancy that you'd had was gone. You were stiff in his arms, the hurt coming off you in waves. He slipped his hand to the nape of your neck and rubbed the skin there, hoping he could soothe you back to sleep. He wanted you to fall asleep in his arms, let him go shower and change. Then he could slip back into bed and lay next to you.</p><p>    “I waited for you.” you were aware of how whiny your voice sounded. You huffed and pushed him away.  “Asmo? Where did you go?”</p><p>    “I told you, darling.” he frowned. “I went to The Fall?”</p><p>   “But what for?”</p><p>   “Oh, you know,” he flapped his hand. “Dancing. Worship. The usual.”</p><p>    “Hanging out with me wasn't enough?” you had tried to joke, but you hadn't been able to keep the heartbreak from your voice. He paused them, tried to reach for you for another cuddle. You scooted away and sat up.</p><p>    “That's... That's not a fair question.”</p><p>    “I suppose not.” you didn't take it back. You swallowed thickly. He pressed kisses to your temple, hoping to make you soften. You stayed firm though, and the question hung heavy between the two of you, waiting for an answer.</p><p>     “It isn't as simple as that, darling.”</p><p>    “Isn't it?” you turned away from him. “I'll go back to my room, Asmo. You look exhausted, and I'm not going to brow beat you into giving me an answer I probably don't want to hear.”</p><p>     “Wait! Darling,” he grabbed your wrist as you tried to escape from the bed and flee to your room.<br/>“You deserve more of an explanation than this.”</p><p>     You pause, turning to look at him. His thumb strokes the underside of your wrists, right on the pulse point. You hesitated, as he peeled back the bedding and patted the spot next to him. With a sigh, you slipped into bed. He fussed with the blankets until you were tucked in, two silky pillows neatly under your head.</p><p>    “I'm just going to shower and wash my face, love. I'll be right back.” he whispered in your ear, kissing your cheek and giving it a nuzzle. Truth be told, he didn't relish the thought of giving you too much affection until he washed off the odor of smoke and—all his other activities.</p><p>    You nodded, your eyes closing obediently. Asmodeus went to the shower, turning it to the perfect temperature. He squirted the perfect amount of the creamy body wash onto the natural sponge. Expensive and delicate while being exfoliating. He would never dream of using a synthetic loofah on his skin. He had tried to convince you several times to try it out. Perhaps with his help?</p><p>    He slowly scrubbed and rinsed. He stepped out, wrapped in the satin kimono, and sat at his vanity to begin the skincare. Must be thorough, he told himself. Don't skip any of the steps. Really, he was hoping that you'd be asleep by the time he got back. Maybe he could avoid the conversation. Maybe he wouldn't have to tell you the whole truth.</p><p>    Sure enough, when he shimmied into pajamas and padded back, you were asleep. Right where he had left you, sweetly asleep in his bed. He shed the robe, tossing it thoughtlessly down by the sweater and laid next to you.</p><p>     Your lips parted, and he listened to the quiet inhalations and exhalations. One finger traced down the shape of your nose. Smoothed over your eyebrows before pressing against your lips. If only you knew, he thought. If only you knew what he did to hide the things inside him. He wanted you to think he was also so sweet, also so bubbly, also so full of adoration.</p><p>     That's why The Fall was the perfect place for him to be his honest self.</p><p>     His honest self could be so ugly. He never wanted to show you how ugly it was.</p><p>    “Asmo?” you stirred awake, making grabby hands. “Lay the way I like?”</p><p>    He laughed softly, unable to resist kissing your lips, soft and blurry with sleep.</p><p>    “Of course, how could I deny you anything? Be patient, darling.”</p><p>     Asmo laid on his back, propping his head up on the pillows. He arranged the perfect amount of blanket for you. You scooted over and laid on him, one leg over his hips, your head tucked just into his neck. Your arms wound around him. He began to count when he heard you sigh in contentment. He didn't get to five before you were dead asleep again.</p><p>     If only it wasn't so fragile, he thought. If only this relationship didn't have to be so delicate. It was so difficult to be near a human. One never could tell what they could tolerate or be absolutely off put by. He nuzzled into you, happy to feel you breathing in his arm.</p><p>    To say nothing of the fact that your body was fragile. Compared to what a demon could handle? He was afraid to hug you too hard. If you could see where some of his proclivities lay, you would run in the other direction. If only to preserve your life. Then again, he reasoned, you didn't have a great track record for making good decisions.</p><p>    Asmo dozed off, with you safe in his arms and his bed. If only he could always have you this way. If only he could wind you in pink satin and cotton, cushion you. Keep you here in his room to play when he wanted. If he could keep releasing this need at The Fall, and keep you from being hurt, he might be able to orchestrate this.</p><p>    But he awake feeling a chill. You weren't wrapped in his arms. Instead, you were sitting at his vanity, staring at your reflect with an expression too close to pain. He frowned and kicked away the blankets, bending to retrieve his robe.</p><p>    “My darling?” he whispered as he walked behind you. He put his hands on your shoulders.</p><p>    “I keep thinking.” you said in a low voice, picking up one of the lipsticks and fiddling with it. “I keep thinking that something must be wrong with me.”</p><p>   “With you? Darling, whatever do you mean?”</p><p>    “Because you keep slipping out like that. Like last night, you forgot that you promised to study with me.” you shrugged and put it down.<br/>“It's silly to think that I can make any demands on your time like that. You owe me nothing. I understand that. And it's my own fault if I get disappointed. Right?” </p><p>     “Wrong,” he shook his head furious. “Oh darling, don't frown like that. You'll get wrinkles. There is so much that you don't know.” he dropped to his knees. You turned on the little bench to face him, swallowing hard. With his eyes shining, and his hair falling just so, you could see that he had once been an angel. He placed his hands on your knees.<br/>“I wish I could tell you.”</p><p>     “Try,” you whispered. “Because I am sick of you leaving me alone in the middle of the night. I know every time you do it. Where do you go?”</p><p>    “Places,” he hedged.</p><p>    “To do what?”</p><p>    “You don't want to know.”</p><p>    “I do!” your voice took on a sharp edge, slicing through his resolve. “I do want to know, because I want this to work. I'm willing to try. You're not. You can't hide everything from me. I know there's, you know, demon shit that I'm not part of.”</p><p>    “This is demon shit.” he pressed on your knees, hoping to refocus you.</p><p>    “It isn't!” your hands are in fists, and you're shaking. He wants to wrap you into him again, shush you until you're calm. Climb back into bed with you and see if he can find a better way to explain.</p><p>    “I don't want to hurt you.”</p><p>    “Too late,” you knuckle one of your eyes. He sees the tears shimmering there. If he could tear his heart out, he would. If he could lift it up to you on a platter, he would. He'd watch you eat it, teeth rending the tender flesh. And it would please him.</p><p>    “I leave because if I stay, I might hurt you in a way that no one will be able to fix. Not Satan and his potions, not Barbatos and his time traveling. You would be damaged beyond repair.”</p><p>   “Why?” you demand.</p><p>    “Because...” he trails off for a moment. “I am the Avatar of Lust, darling.”</p><p>   “I know,”</p><p>   “And there are things that I have to do with that. And... I can't do them with you.”</p><p>    “Why?” your voice cracked. “I can handle rough sex. I'm not a china doll.”</p><p>    But you are. You are his perfect china doll. He stands up and sweeps you into a hug. You place your palms flat on his chest, and for a moment, he is afraid you're going to push him away. He isn't sure what he'd do then. Let you leave the room? Let you scream at him?</p><p>    You nuzzle in. Your tears soak into the silk, and he finds himself uncaring. He only quietly undoes the elastic of your braid, unwinds your hair, lets it fall, wavy and soft all around you. He strokes the hair, cards his fingers in it, lets you cry out your frustration. Why had he not realized you were waking up? How long had you known that he was leaving like that?</p><p>   “My darling, there is rough sex in the human realm. And it is not even one tenth of what demons do to each other.” he whispered in your ear.<br/>“I would break you.”</p><p>    “I want that.” you gave a shuddery breath.</p><p>    “No,” he said firmly. “You would find no enjoyment in those things.”</p><p>    “But... But Asmo,” you pulled away to look him in the face. “You've never even slept with me like that! You don't know what I can handle.”</p><p>    It was true that you hadn't gone that far with him. Kissing, of course. Maybe a little light groping. But he always stopped it. He always stopped your hands. Always caught your with one more kiss and found something else to distract you. It was irritating, and left you flushed and breathless. You had thought that was just another type of flirting.</p><p>      “I won't find out that way. I will not put you in danger. You are too precious.”</p><p>     “You won't give me the chance.”</p><p>     “Not like that,” he agreed.</p><p>     “So when you need, you find with others. And not with me.”</p><p>     “Yes,” he said softly. “I do.”</p><p>      He watched your face crumple then. You sat back on the bench, face in your hands. He reached for you for a second, then let his hands fall. He watched you cry for a few moments before leaving and returning with a wet washcloth.</p><p>     “My darling, don't ruin your skin.” he said softly. He knelt in front of you again. You let him pry your hands away and wipe at your face.<br/>“I am so sorry.”</p><p>     “But you won't stop doing it.”</p><p>     “I can't.</p><p>      You inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly. You had known that there were things that the demons would do without you. Things that you would never understand. You just hadn't expected it to hurt this much. </p><p>     “I don't feel for any of them like I do for you.”</p><p>     “Maybe you will. When you realize what they can give you that I can't.” he stood up in a rustle of silk, and walked over to his sweater. His very favorite cashmere sweater. He walked over to you and held it out like an offering.</p><p>     “None of them will ever hold a candle to you, darling. None of them will ever be to me what you are to me.” you bury your hands in the material.<br/>“And if I could make it so that you could be that for me, then I would do that in a heartbeat. But I won't put you on the line like that. You're too precious.”</p><p>     You stood up and shuffled out of the room, holding the sweater to your chest. Asmo did not follow you. He laid back in bed, and did not find sleep. He laid, holding your pillow to his chest. He knew he'd blown it. He couldn't run from the truth forever.</p><p>     When he finally rose for breakfast, he couldn't put any effort into his  hair. He didn't spritz on the perfume you liked so well. He didn't bother with a pop of lip gloss. Instead, he put on his uniform and walked downstairs.</p><p>     You were already there. There were dark circles under your eyes. Your eyes themselves were red and swollen. </p><p>     Under your RAD jacket, you had on a pink cashmere sweater. He took his seat next to you. Your hand reached for his under the table. He barely dared to look at you.</p><p>    “Whoa!” Mammon said when he plopped down at the table. “What happened to you? Ya look terrible!”</p><p>    “She looks beautiful!” Asmo snapped. “And don't you say another word about it, Mammon.” he glared. Your hand squeezed his just a bit before reaching for your juice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading! That one was a lot of fun!</p><p>The soundtrack for this fic is as follows:<br/>Lucifer: Scared to Death-HIM<br/>Satan: A Starlit Sky-The Workday Release<br/>Mammon: I Won't Lie- Go Radio<br/>Beelzebub: Come Closer-Acceptance<br/>Belphegor: What a Time- Julia Michaels ft. Niall Horan<br/>Leviathan: Still Waters Run Deep- The 69 Eyes<br/>Asmodeus: Drown In My Mind-Story Untold</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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